


House of Mirrors

by shyhumblebee



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brotherly Love, Coming Out, Drama & Romance, F/F, Family Feels, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Motherly love, Recovery, Slice of Life, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-22 00:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14925557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyhumblebee/pseuds/shyhumblebee
Summary: An accomplished father who struggles to understand. A busy mother who is miserable in silence. Two bright sons who are both hurting and healing in not so equal measure. A quiet, perfect family is suddenly torn apart in the wake of a terrible accident. What comes to light afterwards has them all come to realize how fragile it was to start with.Modern AU. A family drama with family issues (duh), romance, and near death experiences. Or, well. Only one of those last ones. M rating for all those warnings in the tags. I might bump it up to E depending on how later chapters come out just to be safe.





	1. A Perfect Pane of Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So, I hate to start something else while my other fic is unfinished, but I was very inspired. This fic is going to have a lot of characters, issues, and drama. It's a look into the lives of the Uchiha family members we all know and love. I hope you guys look forward to it!
> 
> I'll let you all know in future chapters when certain warnings come into effect. For this one: not a lot. it's a pretty tame intro chapter. mostly implied child abuse / neglect and implied drug use

His first thought was: this had to have been broken a long time ago. No one came to this part of town anymore. Not the dealers, or the thugs, or the punk-ass kids who fancied themselves as either. Not even the homeless came anymore, not when a new shelter in town gave them a much more comfortable stay. 

Sasuke tilted his head slightly, watched his reflection splint and distort on the broken glass. No, no one had been here in a long time, but that was why they had chosen here.

Sasuke lifted his bat up and wound it back, before finishing the job of the one who came before him. The window shattered into a thousand glass pieces that sprayed around him. He brought his bat down hard again on another window to the left, watching fascinated as the bits of glass shattered and fell like little bits of rain to the ground.

“Nice one, Prince!”

Sasuke brushed some shards off of his sleeve and turned to glare at his friend. He wasn’t very fond of his new nickname. Suigetsu had taken to teasingly calling him it shortly after he had told them he had applied to Princeton, the same university that his brother went to. He had tried to play it off, that he might as well since he had the grades, and it was only an hour away. But in truth, it was the only acceptable option. Not that these people would understand.

“How about you come help us out over here, your majesty?” Suigetsu continued, gesturing with his own bat to the thick glass that he and Karin were trying to break.

He walked over to them and lifted his bat to ready, Karin flashing him a quick smile before they did the same. Together, they swung blow after blow in rapid succession onto the window. The glass was damn thick too, because by the time it finally shattered, Sasuke’s arms were tired.

“Alright!” Suigetsu cheered from beside him, Karin adding in her own whoops of celebration.

Sasuke smirked a bit, before it quickly fell when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and flicked open the message.

_r u hanging out w ur sketchy friends again? :/_

Sasuke sighed, annoyed.

“Ha. Is it your _boyfriend?_ ” Suigetsu jeered.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sasuke replied reflexively.

“Aw, you guys broke up?” he asked, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

Karin smacked Suigetsu over the head. “Oh, shut up you scumbag! Leave him alone.”

“What was that, bitch?”

Sasuke tuned them out as he thought about how to reply and walked over to Juugo, who was spray painting around the corner on the side of the building. He leaned back against the cold stone of the opposite wall Juugo was currently working on and took in his work. It was still pretty rough, but he could tell that the carefully layered colors of paint resembled a bird’s nest, with a few small chicks in it and a few bigger birds flying around it.

Juugo finished adding another layer onto the pine straw nest before he looked over his shoulder at Sasuke. “Did you need something?”

“No. They were just getting annoying.”

Juugo nodded his understanding, picked up a can of orange paint, and went back to work.

Sasuke’s phone vibrated again.

_hey jerk! talk to me!_

__

_No._

__

_u mean to talking w me or hanging w ur sketchy pals?_

__

_Both._

__

_ur such an ass to talk to_

Sasuke smirked slightly.

_so what are you guys doin?_

__

_I said I wasn’t with them._

__

_fine, wat r u doin?_

Sasuke thought for a moment.

_Practicing my backswing._

__

__

_oh goddamn it bastard!!! what r u breaking??!?!_

Sasuke stifled a laugh.

_Nothing that will be missed. What are you doing, besides thinking about me?_

__

__

_ur so fuckin cocky_

Sasuke waited.

_so do u want to come over or not?_

Excitement burst in his gut before, unwarranted, a sick, guilty feeling settled in. He wanted to. Badly. He hadn’t truly spent time with Naruto in weeks, and the loss was a physical ache. He missed him. Sasuke felt his lungs constrict at the thought. Why was he doing this to himself, again?

Oh right, because if his family found out he was gay and seeing a boy, he’d probably be kicked out onto the street for dead.

Well, at least his brother would still love him. Probably. Wouldn’t he? Sasuke couldn’t imagine a life where his brother hated him, was disgusted by him. Sasuke groaned, his head falling back against the wall. He didn’t want to think about this.

Juugo paused in his motions of detailing the sunset to look over his shoulder at Sasuke, giving him a concerned look.

Sasuke waved him off and Juugo reluctantly returned to his art, this time picking up a purple can.

Sasuke grew frustrated with himself, he wished he could spend time with—or hell, even _think_ about—Naruto without always wondering about all the awful things his family would say if they knew. To say it killed the mood when he was with him would be an understatement.

But they were at the point where they were constantly drawn to each other, in every way, and it was only a matter of time before they crossed a line, finally done with the years of dancing around the subject.

Sasuke was excited for that eventuality, he had been in love with his dumb, oblivious, stupid, beautiful best friend practically since the day they met. He had nurtured his one-sided affections for years and burned quietly from afar. And he had nearly burnt out, until suddenly, his feelings weren’t so one-sided anymore.

Sasuke smiled slightly at the memory of Naruto’s surprise kiss. Naruto had immediately jumped back, calling it an accident. But Sasuke knew. They both knew.

But so did everyone else, and that was the part that scared Sasuke. He always thought he didn’t care much for what anyone thought of him, but imagining his family finding out always made him rethink that sentiment. 

Even so, in the end, Sasuke knew nothing was going to keep him from Naruto, even if his family rejected him. But that was something he wanted to avoid for as long as possible, hence his avoidance of Naruto.

_Not today. I’m going home soon._

Sasuke hated to blow the other off like this, but he needed a little time to himself while he sorted out his feelings and decided on what to do. Or rather, he had already decided. He just needed to brace himself.

Sasuke watched Juugo add another lighter coat onto one of the bigger birds before his frustration came to a peak and he knew he needed a release.

Picking up his bat, he walked toward the distant sound of breaking glass to rejoin in the activities.

 

Sasuke slammed the door shut of Juugo’s car and walked around to sit with his friends on the porch of Juugo’s house. They had stayed for about an hour after Sasuke had sent his last text, and then he drove them all to Juugo’s, since Sasuke was the only sober one.

The wood creaked underneath them as they sat down and did nothing but lounge in the dark for a few minutes.

“So… you guys want to throw knives in the backyard?” Suigetsu asked eventually.

Karin snorted. “It’s dark, we’d probably end up stabbing each other.”

“That’s part of what makes it fun, or are you a pussy?”

“I’m going home,” Sasuke cut in before they could start bickering again. “You can all have fun stabbing yourselves.”

Karin and Suigetsu whined some protest over Juugo asking if Sasuke wanted him to drive him back, that he was barely high in the first place and was pretty much sober now.

“No thanks,” Sasuke replied and pulled out his phone. “I’ll just call my brother.”

Snickering came from his side and Sasuke turned to glare at Suigetsu. “What.”

“Oh, nothing. So do we finally get the honor of meeting the High Prince himself? Or- wait, I guess you’d be the high prince, huh?” Suigetsu snorted at his own joke.

Karin smacked him over the head again and yelled something that Sasuke didn’t listen to.

“Shut up. I’m calling him now,” he said and did so.

“Sasuke?”

“Hey.”

“...Hi. Can I do something for you?”

Sasuke smirked. “Yes, actually. Can you-“

“Ohhh, Sasuke! Harder! _Harder!_ ”

Sasuke froze in mortification, his ears burning red. He quickly jumped up and ran down the driveway until he was standing by the mailbox, his friends laughing behind him. Even Juugo was laughing, he noticed as he glared back at them from his safe distance, the traitor.

“Sasuke?”

Oh God.

“Ignore that. That was just my friend being stupid,” he said, more pissed than embarrassed at this point. Was Suigetsu _trying_ to out him?

“I see… What was it that you needed?”

Did he sound a bit amused? Sasuke sagged in relief. “Uh. Yeah. Could you come pick me up? I’m at Juugo’s.”

“Right now?”

“Are you busy?”

“I’m at work.”

Sasuke groaned internally. “It’s past seven. Tell Dad to fuck off and come get me.”

Itachi was quiet on the other end.

Sasuke sighed and tried not to get annoyed with his brother, since he would also rather eat dirt before talking to the man. “Itachi-”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.” There was a click.

* * *

Itachi hung up his phone and placed it on his desk, unconcerned with keeping his cellphone out of sight since everyone else had long gone home for the night. He traced the cracks on his screen—he hadn’t gotten the chance to replace it yet—with his eyes and tried to make his sudden lightheadedness go away.

He started cleaning up his desk as he thought about what he would tell Father. He hoped the late hour would give him a strong enough case, but he knew that by his father’s standards, it would still be leaving early.

Even though he was technically on overtime.

Fugaku was one of the startup employees of the corporation and had been climbing the ladder for years. When Itachi had finished college about two and a half years ago, Fugaku had immediately recruited him into the business as well. He wished he knew everything that would entail at the time.

Itachi fiddled with the clasp on his over-the-shoulder bag before he decided that stalling would do him no good and fastened it closed. He slung the bag over his shoulder and pocketed his cellphone before he walked the short distance to the open doorway of his boss’s office.

Itachi stepped into the doorway and saw his father, usual scowl in place, looming over spreadsheets at his desk. When Fugaku looked up over his glasses to meet his gaze, all the words that Itachi had prepared flew out of his mind.

Fugaku gave him a quick once over. “Going somewhere, son?”

Itachi fought for his words. “Yes. I’m clocking out for the night.” Itachi wished, not for the first time, that he had a normal boss, that he was a regular employee.

But Fugaku was his father, and he had his own expectations of Itachi that went beyond the job. One of which was that Itachi stay as late as he did, another that he got permission before leaving.

Fugaku laced his hands in front of his face as he studied his son. “Madara is retiring soon, you know.”

This again. “I know.”

“Then do you really think this is the time to be messing around?”

Itachi tried very hard not to duck his head, to fidget with the strap of his bag. “I’ve already finished my work, and several others’ as well.”

“Of course. You know I can only trust you with those sorts of things.” Fugaku sat back in his chair, keeping his hands folded in his lap. “You know how incompetent they are.”

Itachi kept quiet.

Fugaku let out a deep sigh and pinched his brow. “Fine. Go.”

Itachi didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and moved out of the doorway quickly, but he didn’t get far before he was stopped again.

“Itachi,” Fugaku called after him and waited for Itachi to meet his gaze again. “You’ll make this up tomorrow, you understand?”

Itachi’s heart clenched painfully, thinking of Shisui. “Yes, sir.”

Fugaku nodded shortly and returned to his work without another word, his dismissal clear.

Itachi clocked out quickly and made his way down the elevator to the parking garage. He breathed deeply in the elevator, and consciously relaxed his muscles. He turned his thoughts to ponder about what Sasuke was doing, and found himself right back where he started in terms of stress.

If Sasuke was at Juugo’s, it meant he had been hanging out with his… less respectable friends. He had probably spent the entire day doing God knew what, _taking_ God knew what.

And just like that Itachi was feeling light headed again.

The elevator finally came to a stop, its doors opening with a small chime. The second Itachi stepped foot out of it, his phone began vibrating again.

He pulled it out quickly and picked up his pace to his car, thinking it was Sasuke, but paused as he saw the name that flashed on the screen. He raised the phone slowly. “Yes?”

“Hello. Do you have any idea what Sasuke would like for dinner?” His mother’s voice came over the other end.

Itachi blinked, the words playing back in his head. “Excuse me?”

“Does Sasuke have a favorite dinner?”

What? If she wanted _Sasuke…_

Itachi opened his car door and got in, tossing his bag into the passenger seat with a bit more force than necessary. “He’s not that picky. He likes most things.” He started the car up, the engine roaring to life.

She must have heard it. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I just got off of work.”

“I see.”

Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

“I was just going to make dinner. I thought he’d like something nice to wake up to.”

Wake up? “Sasuke will like anything you make I’m sure,” he said, and wondered why he was so reluctant to just tell her. He never thought himself to be the petty type.

“…Okay. Bye.” She hung up.

 

Itachi pulled up on the dirt road in front of the driveway of Juugo’s house. He spotted his little brother on his usual step under the porch light, presumably saying his goodbyes before he hopped up and starting walking down the dirt driveway towards him.

He hopped in and gave Itachi an appreciative nod of his head before buckling his seatbelt.

Itachi rolled up his window to avoid breathing in the dust he just kicked up on the road and turned the car around. “So. What did you do?” He tried to keep any accusation out of his tone.

“Batting practice. Just tossed the ball around a bit,” Sasuke replied with a shrug of one shoulder.

“Hm. Anything else?”

Sasuke crossed one foot over the other. “No. It was pretty boring.”

Itachi didn’t feel like he was lying, he was usually able to spot a lying Sasuke from a mile away, but he was sure he wasn’t telling the entire truth either. Almost every time Itachi had to pick him up from this friend’s house, Sasuke had seemed… off. Different.

Drugged, Itachi’s paranoia provided for him, the word you are looking for is ‘drugged.’

Itachi’s heart clenched so tight he couldn’t breathe.

“Sasuke, don’t take substances if you don’t know exactly what they are. They could be anything. They could hurt-”

“Stop. I’m not under any sort of influence.” Itachi heard the unsaid ‘at the moment.’

“…Okay.”

They both rode in silence for a while. At one point, Sasuke reached over and hooked up his phone to the speakers and put on one of their night riding playlists. Once they got back onto paved roads, Sasuke rolled both of their windows down a few inches, just enough to get a little breeze, and he shifted to sit comfortably back in his seat. Eventually, Itachi found himself relaxing, the late night rides with his brother a familiar comfort.

“Mother thinks you’re in bed like a good boy, by the way.”

Sasuke raised a brow, his face barely visible in the dark. “She’s home?”

“Apparently.”

“Hm. Let’s let her keep thinking that.”

“She’s making dinner, apparently. The ruse will be up when she sees you walk in.”

“Not if you distract her for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you distract her in the kitchen, I can get to the staircase without her noticing.”

“Why can’t you just tell her you went out with friends and your ride back cancelled, so I picked you up? It’s the truth, and it’s not very suspicious.”

“But then she’d ask where I went. And she has the same sixth sense that you do.”

“Something you don’t want her to know about today’s ‘batting practice’?”

“Shut up. She always asks too many questions.”

“Should I be asking more?”

“ _No._ ”

Itachi tried not to sigh. “Sasuke, this is ridiculous, she’ll just ask you at the dinner table what you did today.”

Sasuke crossed his arms and huffed back into his seat. “Are you going to help me or not?” He pouted.

Itachi groaned internally. A rhetorical question.

* * *

After suddenly finding herself with a free morning, Mikoto ended up in a coffee shop with a large cup of the stuff in front of her, a vice she had not given into in a while—a while being a full week. Coffee was difficult to avoid when it seemed that her house ran on the stuff. They were a family of high achievers, over achievers, and that meant little energy at practically every hour of the day, but especially in the mornings.

Fugaku and Itachi were always the first ones up, the shrieking of Fugaku’s alarm at five am a familiar annoyance. Every morning, Mikoto always thought that today was the day. Today was the day that she quit her job and slept in until noon, the day that she had finally had enough.

But then the comforting smell of coffee would waft up from the kitchen downstairs, where her husband and son were no doubt fueling their addictions, and she figured she could get by one more day.

Mikoto let out a deep sigh. In a way, she had gotten what she wanted, she supposed.

Mikoto stared at her reflection in her cup of cooling black coffee, her image distorted, and wondered what she was going to do. She picked off a piece of her croissant and popped it into her mouth, but she wasn’t feeling very hungry. 

She had just gotten laid off. _Her._ Laid off. She still couldn’t believe it. She worked harder than anyone else there. She had to have put in more hours than anyone else, but maybe that was the problem. She never did get paid for overtime she insisted on. Had she become a legal liability? Or maybe it was her decreased tolerability for bullshit in recent years that had landed her on the chopping block. It’s not her fault no one knew how to do their damn jobs, including her boss.

Mikoto took a sip of her coffee, already a little cooler from being abandoned while she fretted. Although, she supposed there wasn’t anything to really worry about. Fugaku alone made enough to plentifully support the entire family, so her income wasn’t really needed.

But what was she supposed to do now? The question had been plaguing her all morning. She wasn’t even sure of how to spend the rest of her day, much less the rest of her life. She had no hobbies, no friends that she had spoken to in at least a decade, nothing. 

Should she find another job? Should she try to play the role of housewife again? She had never been very good at that. She had tried at one point in Sasuke’s elementary years—anything for her sweet baby—but found it dreadfully boring for all the long hours that she didn’t get to see him. 

She had returned to the workforce the next year. It was probably for the best, her cooking never was any good.

Tired of moping, she finished her breakfast and returned home, deciding that there was no other place for her to go at the moment. She pulled into the two-car garage of her home and locked the door behind her, the sound echoing.

Removing her shoes, she scaned the living room in search of anything to tidy up. But there was not a pillow out of place, the couch and armchairs in perfect order. The dark hardwood that ran seamlessly throughout the entire house, something Mikoto was insistent on having when choosing a home, was spotless. Magazines were neatly stacked on the large ornate coffee table, provided as entertainment in case of any guests. The only blemish she could find was a thin layer of dust on the side tables and entertainment set.

Cleaning the dust was only a matter of minutes, and tidying the rest of the downstairs a few more, leaving her right where she began: with nothing to do.

She hadn’t even been home for half of an hour and she was already bored.

Walking back into the kitchen in search of something to do, she spotted the grocery list that hung on the refrigerator, supported by a magnet of ten-year-old Sasuke’s design. Mikoto recognized her own requests on the list among Fugaku and Sasuke’s handwritings. She noticed Itachi had not written anything, but since he was the one who did all of the shopping and had the most particular diet, he probably kept his own list in his head.

A new task successfully acquired, she snatched the list off of the refrigerator and made her way back to the garage.

 

Mikoto jerked awake from the sensation of falling. She got a hold of her bearings in the time it took for her racing heart to calm down again. She had gotten back from the grocery store and immediately went to take a nap on the couch after finishing putting them away. It’s true that she had to search around for a few of the items on the list, but she was more tired than she thought she would be after minimal physical activity.

I really am getting old, she thought dejectedly.

A glance at the clock in the entertainment center revealed it to be just past seven. Had she really been asleep for five hours? Mikoto rubbed a hand over her face, a little annoyed and ashamed. Pulling off the blanket, she rose and forced herself to wake up fully by walking into the kitchen.

She supposed she should try and make dinner, since Itachi probably wouldn’t be back for another few hours and—Wait, was Sasuke home?

Jerking back the curtains so that she could see into the driveway, Mikoto spotted Sasuke’s car, off to the side of the garage so as not to get in the way of his parents vehicles.

He was! Mikoto’s heart filled with warmth at the though of having some time with her son, of being able to have dinner with him. Mikoto replaced the curtains and walked into the kitchen, thinking about what Sasuke would like best.

She called Sasuke to see if there was anything in particular he wanted, but was greeted with his voicemail message. That was strange. But he was a growing, hardworking boy, so he was probably taking a nap up in his room after finishing his homework.

She would just have to pick something for him then. But to be honest, she wasn’t exactly up to date with Sasuke’s preferences. When he was younger, she knew he hated sweets and loved the onigiri she made him, but that was years ago. She didn’t know what she could make for him that would be special.

But she knew who would.

Reluctance welled up in her before it was quickly crushed by guilt. Not giving herself time to overthink it, she dialed her eldest son’s number.

“Yes?” Itachi’s voice sounded a little hesitant.

“Hello. Do you have any idea what Sasuke would like for dinner?”

There was a slight pause. “Excuse me?”

She thought she had been pretty clear the first time. “Does Sasuke have a favorite dinner?”

There was another pause where she heard shuffling and a thump in the background. “He’s not that picky. He likes most things,” he said slowly. Then she heard the unmistakable noise of a car being started.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I just got off of work.”

“I see.”

She kept quiet and waited for a better answer. But after the moment had gone on too long, she decided to try again. “I was just going to make dinner. I thought he’d like something nice to wake up to.”

“Sasuke will like anything you make I’m sure,” he said, his tone inflectionless.

Was he not answering her on purpose, or did he not know either? Talking to her eldest son was always so difficult. “Okay. Bye.”

She hung up and let her phone drop onto the countertop. She wondered, not for the first time, if Itachi hated her. She wasn’t sure why he acted this way, she could not remember any instances of cruelty towards him, but all the same, he had shut her out years ago.

She sighed and moved over to the refrigerator, where she scanned the shelves and considered her options.

It was about forty-five minutes later—right as the red sauce was just about reduced to the perfect amount—when she heard the front door open. Figuring it was Itachi, she continued stirring the sauce. She was just checking on the noodles when she heard light shuffling just outside the kitchen that stopped behind the island. 

She turned around, surprised to find Itachi there. She wasn’t quiet sure if he avoided her, but he hardly sought out her company.

“Anything I can do to help?” His face gave nothing away, but something in his body language gave her the impression that he was uncomfortable. Was he ill?

“Oh, I’m almost done. You can grab a few plates for me, if you’d like.”

He nodded slightly and moved around the island to the cabinet that contained the dinner plates.

“Did something happen to your apron?” he asked as he grabbed the plates.

_…What?_ Mikoto’s brow twisted in confusion.

“Your apron. You used to wear it. When you cooked.”

His face was perfectly serious, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say out of nowhere. But then she remembered: she did have one in the pantry that she wore a few times. But even when she did wear it years ago, it wasn’t with a frequency that it should be noticeable if she didn’t one day.

But then again—Mikoto glanced at the bubbling red sauce—maybe it was a good idea. “Oh, I forgot. Thanks for the warning, dear.”

She turned the heat down on the sauce and opened the door to the pantry, stepping inside. She flicked on the light and quickly located her old apron hanging beside the switch.

When she walked back out, tying the apron behind her, Itachi was turning away from where he had been looking into the living room.

She raised an eyebrow, but let it go. Her eldest had always been a bit strange.

“Could you go wake up your brother? It’ll be ready in just a few minutes.”

“Of course.”

 

That night when Mikoto went to bed, she had trouble falling asleep. She curled up on her side of the bed and consciously tried to relax herself, but it didn’t do much good. She was used to being dead tired when she came come from work and falling asleep almost immediately when she went to bed. She didn’t like to be left alone with her thoughts like this. They always pressed into an old ache, carving out a deep emptiness in her chest.

Later, when she was finally on the verge of sleep, she heard the bedroom door open, and Fugaku took his place on the opposite side of the bed.

Four more years, she told herself. Just four more years.


	2. Cracked (A/N)

This chapter and fic is under reconstruction. I posted it sooner than I should have, before I finished outlining the entire story in fact, and so I have to take it down for now. Sorry for the inconvenience, it will be back one day. For now though, I will only leave the first chapter up, though that too will change a little once I fix it.


End file.
